Pancakes
by Stormageddon1046
Summary: A small Whouffaldi fanfic taking place right after Eleven regenerates, and Clara's feelings on the new Doctor as he makes breakfast.


Clara shuffled to the kitchen wearing fuzzy blue slippers and a pair of sweatpants. Her hair was tousled, and sleep filled her eyes. She stopped suddenly at the entrance when she noticed that something wasn't quite right. The kitchen was missing one thing, the Doctor.

Clara felt her heart sink in her chest.

"Maybe he's forgotten?" Clara asked herself, but the idea of that made her feel even worse.

Clara decided that the best thing to do was to find where the Doctor is now.

"Probably the console room," she thought. "He always seems to be doing something in there."

Clara hung behind the entrance, deciding that it would be best to not be seen. Quickly, she stepped around the corner and glanced over at the Doctor, who was busy tinkering with something Clara was unfamiliar with. The Doctor obviously spotted Clara, as he shifted to look up. Their eyes barely made contact before Clara quickly ducked behind the door frame.

"Of course he's not going to do it, Clara. Don't be daft," Clara told herself.

Every time that Clara stayed overnight in the Tardis, the Doctor was always sure to get up early and make Clara breakfast. That usually meant the Doctor's famous pancakes, a recipe he insisted on keeping secret. But that was the other Doctor, the old Doctor. He was different now, with his wavy hair and angry eyebrows.

Clara sighed and decided that it was up to her to find breakfast, but first, she would have to find the kitchen again, which the Tardis always seemed to be moving.

After wandering around for ten minutes, Clara had finally found where the Tardis put the kitchen this time. She scrounged the pantry for anything easy to have for breakfast, as she was feeling too down to bake.

"That's odd," Clara thought. "I usually like to bake when I feel sad. It helps."

Clara decided that it was the Doctor's regeneration that had brought this change of mind upon her. He's so different now, no longer the same optimistic and bouncy Doctor Clara had come to love. This new Doctor detests touch, which Clara craves so much. Just to have the Doctor hold her hand, to wrap his arm around her shoulder was enough for her.

"Enough of that then," Clara said, shooing out the thoughts.

After looking in the pantry again, Clara settled on some cereal.

She was just about to pour herself a bowl when the Doctor walked in.

"What are you eating that for?" the Doctor asked Clara, raising his eyebrow.

The Doctor was wearing his same magician coat with the red lining. Just like the last regeneration, this Doctor didn't believe in pajamas.

"I like it," Clara said. "It's quite good."

"You know that's not what I meant," the Doctor added. "I meant why are you eating that when I always make breakfast for us?"

"Well, when you weren't already in the kitchen I assumed you had forgotten."

Clara felt herself blush. Why did she just assume so? The Doctor has never forgotten before.

"I don't know, Doctor. I guess it's that you just changed and all. I thought 'maybe he just needs a day to rest.' You didn't remember how to fly the Tardis earlier, so I just thought…"

"You thought I forgot you," the Doctor replied.

Clara looked down at her feet.

"Yeah, I guess so."

"Oh, Clara," the Doctor moved closer to her. "I may have changed, but I will never forget my Impossible girl."

Clara felt her heart leap in her chest. HIS Impossible girl. His hand interlocked with hers, grasping tightly as if scared to let go. Looking up from their hands, her eyes met the Doctors. Clara's lip curled up, revealing the dimple the Doctor cherished. The Doctor could feel his hearts beating out of his chest as he reached up and slowly stroked his thumb across Clara's cheek, a smile forming on his own. Her deep brown eyes made the Doctor melt. The way that she looked at him seemed to make everything better. The Doctor wanted to hold Clara in his arms and assure her that he hadn't changed that much, to help her let go of her insecurities. The Doctor wanted to badly, but he would never be able to tell Clara how he felt. It hurt him so badly to have her so close, but she would never know. He had to get out of there before he fell harder.

"So, who's up for pancakes?" the Doctor said excitedly, clapping his hands together.

Clara wished things could stay like that forever, to have the Doctor look at her the way he did, but that would have to wait for now.

Curious, Clara watched as the Doctor rummaged through the pantry. She bit her lip, unsure of what the Doctor was looking for.

"Um, Clara?" the Doctor asked, sounding unsure of what he was going to say next. "Do you happen to know the recipe?"

"No, Doctor. You never would tell me. Said it was a secret."

The Doctor disappeared back into the pantry again, making even more of a mess. When he reappeared, he was holding Clara's cereal. Clara rolled her eyes at him and gave a sort of huff.

"Like I said earlier Clara, great idea with the cereal. Gives me a day to rest."

As the Doctor handed Clara a spoon, she realized that things may not be as different as she had thought. He was still her Doctor.


End file.
